Cemetery
by yorkie-s
Summary: When Quinn and Bobby have a fight, Bobby flies off the handle and Quinn runs. What awaits her is far worse than Bobby's temper could ever be. Now she's left wondering if she will get out of this one alive; and will Bobby come to save her?  Pic Deviant ID:  LknPL


Stop screaming stop screaming stop screaming.

"STOP SCREAMING!" tore through my lips before I had a chance to stop it.

I hadn't even intended on talking as Bobby tore a strip off of me, but my voice worked without me telling it too.

"What did you just say?" Bobby asked, crossing his arms and staring at me. I kept my mouth shut. "You waltz in here at three in the fucking morning, after being at a party and DRINKING and reeking of POT and you tell me to stop screaming?" My head stooped a little. "Don't take ANY fucking tone with me little girl!" he went on.

Jack and Angel were sitting on the couch, watching silently as Bobby raged on. They both wore similar angry and disappointed expressions. I shrank into myself a little more; I shouldn't have looked at them again.

I had been out at a party, but not because I wanted to be there. I had been studying with my lab partner, when she said she had plans for the night and said I could come. A friendly get together. I said it sounded like fun and got into her car with her; and before I knew it, we were at someone's house, she was drunk, and no where to be seen. I didn't know anybody there, and some guy offered me a drink, saying it was just orange juice – first mistake. I talked to him for a while, and we went outside, and he began smoking, and it stank really badly, and then he started advancing on me and blowing his smoke all over me – my second mistake. When the creep wouldn't leave me alone, I kicked him in the groin and made a run for it. I kept going for a few blocks before I ran out of air and had to stop. The house the party was at was a three hour walk from mine, and it was almost midnight – which would be my curfew. When I finally did get home, Bobby, Jack, and Angel were all fuming and pacing. Mom, thankfully, wasn't at home, she was staying the night at Jerry's; but I was no doubt going to get more from her as well.

"Look at me when I talk to you!" Bobby yelled, placing his hands on his hips.

"I wouldn't call this talking…" I mumbled; staring harder at the carpet.

"What did you say?" Bobby asked, taking a step closer. "Answer me!" he bellowed when I didn't respond.

I raised my head, fighting to not tear up and muster up some anger. "I said: I wouldn't call this talking."

Bobby's face got harder, if that was possible, and took another step forward. "Man, you are one lucky little punk. If you were a boy, I'd smack you upside the head!" He said, his hands twitching.

I scoffed, "What's stopping you? My lack of male genitalia?" I crossed my arms.

"Don't push me, Quinn!"

"Like you could get any more pissed off!"

"I think you should both calm down." Jack said, standing up.

"Shut up Jackie," Bobby said with out turning to him.

We were almost face to face now, glaring.

"You always freak out over nothing! How many times have you been piss drunk?"

"That's not the point!"

"You're such a hypocrite!"

"I'm LEGAL AGE!"

"WHO CARES! You didn't even listen to my side!"

"You don't have a side!"

"Frick, Bobby, you're such a screw up! Don't preach to me about shit!"

I felt the hit before I knew I had been hit. My glasses were on the floor a few feet away and my face burned. The room was dead silent as I reached up to my face; it was wet with the tears I had tried so hard to hold back. My cheek felt hot and stung when I touched it. I dropped my head and took a half step back.

"Quinn…I…" Bobby started, but I didn't want to let him finish.

I turned on my heels and bolted for the door. I didn't bother to put on my shoes or grab a sweater, I just started running. It had started raining just after I had gotten home, and it was a downpour now. I heard voices yell after me, but I took a quick turn to the right, then left, then right, till I had no idea where I was and could hardly breathe. I couldn't hear any voices anymore, and was sure I was utterly alone now. I slowed down to a walk, and staggered a few steps as my lungs strained to gather any air that they could. My body shook from exhaustion and sobs as they racked through me, sapping what little strength I had left. Hunched over, I leaned against the wall of the alley I was in and was sick. Tonight had gone from average to one big ball of shit that just sucked! When I was feeling less nauseous, I stood up and began walking again. Everything was slightly blurry without my glasses, but I was okay with that. I didn't really want to see anything right then.

I don't know how long I was walking for; I just knew that I wanted to keep walking. I ended up near the cemetery. I gave a shiver and stopped in front of the gate. My birth mom told me once, when she was in one of her drunken stupors, that my grandpa had been buried in there. I met him once, when I was really little, and I don't really remember him, but mom used to say he was an amazing person; the best dad in the world sort of thing.

The rain had soaked through all my clothes, and clung to me uncomfortably. I tried to rub my arms to warm up a little, but that did no good. I turned and was about to keep walking, when a figure began approaching me from down the side walk. My first thought was that it was Bobby, but he would have made a much grander entrance, plus this person walked differently. I squinted, trying to see who it was through my blindness and the rain. As the person got closer, my heart sank. I would have given anything in that moment if it _had_ been Bobby in a rage; but it wasn't.

"Hey bitch, remember me?" The guy from the party asked, stopping five feet in front of me. He was drunk, and stank of pot. "You're gonna pay for what you did." He said, walking closer.

I began to panic, and ran for the cemetery gate. It was locked and I jumped on it and started climbing. I could hear him chuckling behind me as he waited till I was at the top then began scaling it with apparent ease. This was bad. I started at a dead run, desperation taking over every other instinct.

"You can't run from me." He taunted, his voice sounding like it was right behind me. "I will find you." He slurred slightly.

At every place I turned, he always seemed to be right behind me. I dropped down behind a large tombstone to think. Rubbing my head, I tried to clear my frazzled brain and sooth my nerves. He couldn't be this good at finding me, he was drunk, it was dark, and he couldn't be that good! I took three deep breaths before peeking around the stone. I couldn't see him, and let out the breath I had been holding. I sank to the ground, closing my eyes, I just had to find a way out of the cemetery with out him hearing or seeing me. It shouldn't be that hard. When I opened my eyes, two others were centimeters from mine, and I tried to scream, but my mouth was covered.

"Nu uh, no screaming, it's sleepy time." Which was the last thing I heard before everything went black.

The world was fuzzy as I woke. Mom was probably already making breakfast, and Bobby was probably fighting with Jack over the shower. My neck felt sore, I must have slept weirdly on it. Bobby would be in soon to wake me up, yelling about how we'd be late for school. I tried to open my eyes, but they were too heavy. A cold shock brought me fully awake as water was dumped on my face, filling my nose. I coughed and fully opened my eyes. I blinked a few times and looked around. I wasn't in my room, it was dark, and I was tied.

"Oh, you're awake?" the party guy asked innocently, putting down a bucket. "Well, now that you are up, let's get this party started!"

He reached behind him and pulled out a pocket knife, I nearly wet myself. He'd tied me up pretty good, feet secured at the ankles, hands behind my back, rope wrapped around my fingers and secured to an unused tombstone.

"It's a nice little place, eh? I found it last time I took care of a bitch like you." He said, smirking. We were in the tool shed near the rear of the cemetery; where they stored the shovels and old stones. "It's great because, no one ever thinks of looking here!" he seemed to have an almost boyish excitement as he rambled on. "It's out of the way, and no one lives close enough to hear you scream!" his eyes were wild as he looked at me again.

I sank closer to the stone, feeling a shiver creep its way up my spine and spread through out my body. This was bad. He caught on to my apparent unease, and laughed. It gave me the creeps. How stupid was I to just run away at night, in DETROT? That's a sure fire way to get yourself killed. I wanted Bobby, or Angel, or Jack, or mom, or anyone more then I had ever wanted anyone before. There was a very good chance I wasn't going to get out of this alive.

"What's your name, sweetie?" He leaned closer. I clamped my mouth shut, refusing to answer. This pissed him off more and he jerked forward, wrapping his clammy hand around my neck. "This can go one of two ways," he said. "You can either co-operate, and maybe I will let you out of here alive, or you can keep doing what you are doing and…well let's just say things will be going pretty far south." His grip tightened, causing me to gasp, and tear up.

"Quinn…" I muttered; breathing deeply as his grip lessened.

"See?" he rubbed some stray bangs out of my face, caressing my cheek. "That wasn't so hard." He sat back on his haunches. "I have a bone to pick with you, Quinn. See, you kicked me, really hard, and embarrassed me in front of my friends, and that's not cool in my books." I nodded once. "Well it's good we understand each other; that just may keep you alive." I nodded again. "Now, I owe you for what you did to me, that's only fair right...RIGHT?" he yelled when I didn't respond. I nodded again, starting to cry. "Sh, sh, sh." He said, his face going soft with mock pity. "There's no need to cry. I'm going to take good care of you." He began raising the knife. I closed my eyes and felt the cool tip of the knife against my face. "Now this may hurt just a little."

I screamed.

* * *

"Where the fuck could she go?" Bobby asked in obvious frustration.

"Well…you hit her pretty hard, man." Jack said, rubbing his neck. "She seemed pretty upset."

"Don't you think I know that?" Bobby turned on him. "I know I went too far! I know I'm wrong! But right now we just need to find Quinn!" Bobby turned and began running down the street again.

Damn she was quick. She had taken abrupt turns and lost him easily. All those damn track meets she had been in gave her an edge over him; he should have gotten her a tracking collar or something! It would have solved most of his problems. The rain had begun to let up a little, making it easier to see. They had checked all of the obvious places, but came up empty handed. Now all that was left were the unobvious place. Terrific! That was like, what, all of Detroit? This was going to be a lot harder than Bobby wanted it to be. He had really messed up this time. He should have known better – he did know better – but he let his anger take over; and now he was worried it would be too late to mend things.

When Jackie was little, Bobby was always careful to not fly off the handle on him. Jack had come from a place where violence was the only language used. Evelyn had warned Bobby about what his anger could do too reverse all the progress they were making with the small boy. When Quinn came, Evelyn had giving Bobby the same warning, but it was more so directed at the fact that she was a girl, and, as a boy, Bobby was never allowed to be as rough with her as he was with the rest of his siblings. It wasn't until a few years later when bigger concerns came to be known. Quinn and Jack were more similar than any of the Mercer's could have predicted. It was like they mirrored each others childhoods.

Bobby came to an abrupt stop, turned to the wall beside him, and, with all his strength, punched it. His face contorted with the pain and he stepped away from the wall, holding his hand close. It was bleeding and it was all messed up; but he didn't care. He needed to do something, anything to make up for what he just did. This was going to have to suffice for the moment.

"Bobby…what the hell, man?" Angel asked, staring at his brother's hand. "The wall jump out at your or something?"

"Not important." Bobby said, before turning and continuing down the ally way; his brothers in tow.

"Where are you going?" Jack asked, jogging to keep up with Bobby's fast stride.

"The cemetery."

* * *

My face was warm, and it burned as salty tears continued to leak out of my eyes and drain down my face. The ropes around my wrists had cut off all circulation a long time ago and now my hands felt like useless lumps at the end of my wrists. Everything was blurry, and not just because I didn't have my glasses. The bastard had used the knife in ways I had only heard off on the news or seen in movies. Like, when the villain in some cheesy thriller threatens to rearrange the face of the person he's captured unless they give them the answers they want to foil someone else's plans to foil their dastardly plans. Only this villain went through with it.

It hurt more than I wanted, and thought, it would. It was a chilling thing, having someone else cut you. You can feel the metal, but you are completely powerless to stop it. The pain singes as the gash grows bigger, and it feels like an eternity for everything to finally stop; but the pain never ceases. It continues to burn, and then only gets worse when you cry; but that pain is nothing compared to cowering in front of the person who wants to have power over you. It's humiliating, and demeaning, and nauseating and suffocating.

"Look at me when I talk to you!" Party guy screamed, lashing out. His large hand hit me upside the head, smearing blood all across my face and making the cuts flair up with renewed vigor.

Against my best efforts, I let out a sob.

"You still haven't learned; have you?" he asked, his face inching closer to mine. I tried to scoot back, but I was as far back as I could get. His breath stank. "What's wrong, sweetie?" his face changed into a caring, concerned expression. He was mocking me. "Are you alright?" He asked, raising the hand he had just hit me with and moving my hair out of my face. "You look so scared."

With a deep breath, I raised my eyes to his, which were staring intently at mine, and mustered all the saliva I could and spat in his face. His face didn't change, completely unfazed. He rubbed the spit off with the back of his wrist and continued to smile at me.

"Awe, come now, that wasn't very nice, now, was it?" he said, running his fingers through my hair and wrapping around the side of my face. Sickeningly tender and gentle. "When will you learn, I've got you. I won."

"You haven't. As long as I can still breath, and speak, you have not won!" I shot back, hoping I wasn't going to regret those words.

He smirked, "Well, we'll have to fix that then, won't we?"

With that, his mouth came down hard on mine. It hurt, and I tried to pull back, but there was no where left for me to go. His mouth continued to move, and I felt sick to my stomach. His hand, which had been holding my face, began moving down to my back, then my waist and started pulling me closer. It went on for what felt like an eternity, before he slowly began to ease up. I turned my head away and began sobbing harder than before.

"No…no…no…no" I whimpered, reliving the moment a thousand times over in my head.

"Now you understand?" he said, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. "Like a wild horse, you just needed to be broken."

I let my head go limp in his hand, and sobbed.

* * *

"The cemetery? Why the hell would Quinn go there?" Angel asked, watching as Bobby nearly sprinted towards their destination.

Bobby was unable to explain his reasoning, except that he just…knew. When Jack had been younger, Bobby and Angel had gotten in a fight, which ended up in a few punches being thrown; normal brotherly things. Jack, who had witnessed the fight, suddenly panicked and took off. They had searched for hours for him, but they came up empty handed.

Quinn had been little then, only about four or five. Evelyn had gone out on an errand or something, and that left them, four idiots, in charge of taking care of a little girl. The fight had scared her too, but she took to crying and wailing than running. After explaining to her that they didn't really want to hurt each other, and they still loved each other, she had settled down. Jack was going to be harder to convince of this.

They had scoured the neighbourhood but came up with nothing. They had been on their way back to the house to see if he had shown up, when Quinn perked up, pointing at the cemetery adamantly. She took off from them and ran through the metal gates and up the hill. They all chased her as she led them towards a tombstone. She stopped in front of it, stooping to run her finger over the engraving.

"Quinn, you shouldn't do that." Bobby said, picking her up.

"Gwandpa," she said, pointing at the stone.

Bobby looked away from the girl in his arms, to the stone, and, sure enough, her Grandpa's name was carved into it.

"Would you look at that," He said, putting the small girl down.

Quinn walked back over to the face of the stone, before creeping around it and peeking at the other side.

"Jack!" she cheered happily.

The older three boys rushed to the other side, and were stunned to see Jack, with Quinn nestled in his lap.

They were all relieved to find the boy, and crouched down around him to explain the same thing they had to Quinn earlier. Jack nodded quietly, relief apparent on his face, and the five of them began the walk home; Quinn clinging to Jack's hand and he to hers.

After that day, sometimes, when Quinn wanted a breather from school, or needed to let of steam, she would go for longs walks; and every so often visit her Grandpa's grave. Not often enough to make a habit out of it, but enough times to give Bobby a thread of hope that that was where she was.

He pushed his body as hard as he could, demanding more from it now than he ever had in all his life. Desperation and determination burned in his eyes, in his lungs, and in his legs as he sprinted the entire way to the cemetery. It was the only place he could even think of that she could possibly be at, and he prayed to what ever god was listening that she was there.

"_Okay God," _he said in his head,_ "If she is there, I promise to go to Church at least ONCE this year, and to be a better person. I'll even give up drinking…for a day…an hour…please."_

The trio came to the cemetery gates and, with everything that was left, Bobby launched himself at the gate and began scaling it, springing from the top and landing on the opposite side with apparent ease. He was completely unaware of his hand that was screaming in angry protest, or to his brothers telling him to slow down.

He ran for the hill where the tombstone was and came to an abrupt stop to look behind it. Empty. With a discouraged sigh he began scanning the entire cemetery. It wasn't very big, and there were only so many places someone could be. There was a workers shed in the far corner, and head stones of varies sizes scattered around the field. A few trees also of various sizes were scattered around, but Quinn had never been one for tree climbing. His brow creased in desperation and anger as he made his way to the shed, the only plausible place for someone to hide.

As he got closer he could see a faint hue from a light coming from the inside and heard whimpering.

Bobby snapped.

* * *

I could feel bruises begin to form on my waist where his hands pressed hard into my skin as he continued to kiss me. He knew exactly what to do to make me feel so helpless, and I hated him for it. He would move his mouth away from mine, across my cheek to my ear, his breath warm and moist as he nibbled on it; with every bite taking away more and more of my dignity. When he finally did stop, he sat back to look at me. I could feel the life drained from my eyes as I stared at nothing. I had given up fighting when he had pulled the knife out again and made new cuts on my legs and abdomen. Best to wait out the storm than fight the hurricane.

"How's my pet doing?" he asked, leaning his face closer to mine.

His face was clean shaven, and I could smell the faintest hint of cologne. A smell I could vaguely remember Jack wearing at one point. If I made it out of here, I would be sure to flush it and burn the bottle. Against my best efforts, I couldn't help but think that, if he wasn't such a freak job, he would be quite handsome. I mentally kicked myself for even thinking that. His hair was sandy-blonde, and looked really soft. Another mental kick. With no hopes for escaping on my own, it left few things to think about other than what was right in front of you.

_The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman._

"You are quite the girl, Miss Quinn." He said, reaching his face forward. I closed my eyes as I felt the very tip of his tongue touch my cheek and made a hot, wet trail on the side of my face.

_He just licked me?_

He sat back on his haunches, rubbing his thumb across his lower lip. He stopped suddenly, cocking his head to the side as he listened. I held my breath and waited, then heard it.

_Footsteps!_

He gave a deep, soft chuckle. "Well, it seems our time here is almost up." He looked back at me. I cringed and shrank back. "It has been fun, Quinn. I only wish we could do it again sometime."

He reached his large hand out toward me and grabbed my by the collar and hoisted me to my feet. He cut the bonds around my legs and ankles and paraded me towards to door of the shed and shoved me outside. I had a sinking feeling in my gut. This could only end badly for one of us; and I couldn't help but feel like I had been handed the shitty end of the stick.

* * *

Before Bobby could reach the shed to throw it open, the thought that it could just end up being two teens was nudging the back of his mind softly, the door threw itself open and a girl with a bloodied face was pushed out; a male behind her pushing her gruffly. The girl's head was lowered, and Bobby could see crimson tears drip from her nose to the ground; sullied with blood. The hackles on the back of his neck stood on end as he took a good look at the girl. QUINN!

Bobby's vision went completely black, the edges tinted with crimson. The bastard had dared to mutilate his sister's face; and from the looks of her, that wasn't the only place he had harmed her. Bobby would have jumped on the punk then and there and torn him apart with his bare hands, had Jack and Angel not been there holding him back.

"LET ME GO!" He roared, pulling against their hands. "LOOK WHAT HE DID!"

"BOBBY!" Jack yelled in his ear, momentarily pulling his attention away from the scum in front of him to his youngest brother.

Jack's face was contorted in a way Bobby had never seen before. Pain was etched very clearly in his face, and his eyes were ablaze like Bobby had never seen them before. Jack was never one prone to fly off the handle, but when you got him really upset, the whole world was in trouble at that point. This was worse than that. Bobby had never seen him react this way before. His entire body was shaking as hatred and bloodlust seethed from every pore in his body. Bobby could feel the anger radiating from him; it was scorching. Angel's expression was similar to Bobby's but no where near as terrifying as the younger Mercer's was.

Bobby stopped fighting them as he watched Jack.

Jack took a deep breath, sucking air in through his teeth and exhaling in the same manner. It sounded as feral as a cat's. He felt like he was about to explode. The ass had dared to touch his sister in any manner! The punk was not walking out of the cemetery tonight; not by his own strength.

"Think for a minute." He addressed his oldest brother. "Look at what he's holding." He indicated to Party Guy.

Bobby tuned and looked back at him. Sure enough, a knife was sticking into Quinn's back. She looked more scared than Bobby had ever seen her be. No doubt the guy had done something drastic to break her. Bobby shuddered and could feel heat creep up the back of his neck. The boy better get some sort of religion soon; he was about to meet his maker.

* * *

Party guy laughed as he watched the three men in front of him. This was too much fun; first the girl and now these three! He was giddy as a power trip overtook him. How easy it would be to manipulate these three. He had the girl tightly wrapped around his finger. She would do what ever he told her to at this point. If he had told her to jump of the Brooklyn Bridge, she probably would do it most willingly, he bet. That was the thing with power; it was intoxication. Acton said it best: power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. He was riddled to the bone with the intoxication power left in its wake; and he had no intentions of turning back. Addicted for life, as the saying goes.

Ever since he was small, power was something he strived to obtain. He had learned from the best what power could do to those who used or misused it; used for their own benefits as they deemed worthy. His own mother had been a power junkie when he was younger. She had demanded complete control of the house hold, and of all the lives that resided within that house. Her addiction had, no doubt, played a huge hand in his father's leaving. As a child, he didn't know what to do. He didn't understand why he left or that his home life wasn't normal. He didn't know anything other than how to take orders; take orders and obey absolutely.

He had small tastes of what power felt like in the school yard during recesses. The other kids followed him out of fear. There was never any loyalty between them. No friends. Friends were for the weak. After following orders for so long, the feeling of power was intoxicating. He vowed that he would never be under anyone's foot ever again.

As the Red Queen said, it truly was better to be feared than loved. He'd always loved that the person who was the biggest heart, had no heart at all. Like him, she had lusted after the thrill that was power. Why have their loyalty, when you could have their head? It really was a scintillating feeling.

Quinn let out a small whimper, and he realized that he was pushing the knife a little too hard into her back. He grinned and let up. This was going to be a piece of cake.

"So, you've found me. Guess my secrets out!" Party guy said with a laugh, wrapping an arm around Quinn's shoulders and grabbing her face with his big hand; giving it a tight squeeze. Her lips puckered in his grasp and he could feel her bottom lip quiver. "I guess now is when we start negotiations, huh?" He lifted his eyes to give the trio as sadistic grin.

* * *

Bobby shook with anger as he watched the boy play around with his baby sister. This needed to end now! He had to find some way of stopping it. His mind scrambled for answers; answers that were no where to be found in the cemetery at that moment in time. He hated this. He hated not being able to protect Quinn, he hated that some creep had her in his arms right now. He hated the creep! He was no superman, but if he was, his family would be his kryptonite. They were the only ones who could bring him back to ground, and the only ones who he cared enough about to be lifted off the ground.

He looked at Quinn again, making a mental note not to again until she was safe. Seeing her now, in this state, was only going to further agitate his already snapped nerves. She was in bad condition; and he hated it! Taking in a deep breath, he moved his gaze from his sister to the creep. This guy wasn't very big; average build, average height, average features, average. Under normal circumstances, Bobby wouldn't have even broken a sweat with this punk. However, seeing as the creep had a hostage, things were going to be that much more difficult.

With one more calming breath, Bobby quickly eased out of the situation and into a demeanor better suited for dealing with assholes. He turned off all emotion, all expression, and settled back into a relaxed state. This way, he was ready for what ever the punk could possibly throw at him. No emotion, no fear, no problem. Go time.

Jack watched his oldest brother closely. Bobby was never really one for subtlety. He was loud, and rash, and always let the whole world know when he was pissed off. When it came to fights, the slightest movement had a distinct meaning. After living with the Mercers for so long, Jack had learnt to pick up on each movement and their meaning. If Bobby cracked his neck, he was pumping himself up for a fight. Rubbing his knuckles with his right hand, he was getting ready to punch a guy in the face. If he was overly snide, he had something to hide, but nothing to tell. If he settled back into a lean and removed all emotions from his face, all hell was about to break loose.

Jack tensed as he got ready for whatever Bobby was about to do. What ever it was, it was going to be brutal. Bobby had shut down all emotions, but that only made his bloodlust that much stronger. With no emotions to hold him back, the empty spaces were filled with all the intentions he had. Tonight was not going to end peacefully.

"Jack, Angel," Bobby called the two to attention without looking over his shoulder.

"Yeah," The two said in unison.

"We're gonna do the gas thing."

Jack smirked, reaching into his back pocket. He loved doing the gas thing. He pulled out a pack of smokes, tapped out a slender white stick, and stuck it into the corner of his mouth. Angel had given off a soft chuckle and ducked into the darkness, quickly reappearing with a gas can. The shed was also where they kept the lawn mower, and the gas tank had been left off to the side; easily snatched up by passersby – such as themselves.

"You really think you'll scare me with you're little fireworks display?" Party Guy asked, letting his hand that had once been holding Quinn's face hang forwards off her shoulder; over her chest.

Bobby smirked; bad sign. "I'm going to enjoy this." was all he said.

With quick movements, he stepped forward, landing a quick punch on the guys face. His face snapped back, his arm falling away from Quinn's shoulder. Without looking, Bobby grabbed her shoulder and shoved her towards Jack. With her relatively safe, he turned his full attention to the creep holding his bloody nose. He quickly set to work on the boy. A series of kicks and punches rained down on the creep as he tried feebly to protect himself. No doubt having only dealt with young girls who were weaker than him had left him feeling powerful; an easy target for those who actually could protect themselves.

After several minutes, the creep lay motionless on the ground, breath raspy. Bobby took a few deep breaths before turning to his younger brothers. Jack had an arm around Quinn protectively. She was safe. Bobby was going to make sure she stayed that way. He walked towards the trio.

"Gas tank." He said to Angel, who handed it to him.

"Big mistake there." Bobby heard a voice say behind him.

He whirled in time to see Party Guy stand up and draw out a gun. Panic flooded his mind momentarily before he regained what little composer he could. He needed a plan. Now! His mind reeled as he searched for answers he didn't know. This could possibly be the end. This was not good.

"Game over." Party guy said, leveling the gun with Bobby's chest. Shit.

Bobby heard a shrill scream before the bullet fired. He should have been in pain, he should have felt a numb, burning sensation. He had been shot before, and this felt nothing like it had the times before. Stunned, he looked down. Doubled over in front of him, was Quinn. She let out a gurgled cough as blood gushed out of her mouth and splattered onto the ground.

Bobby's vision went completely black this time.

* * *

Quinn had never felt this sort of pain before. It had a sort of numbing effect on her. Her mind went fuzzy with the sensation in her body; almost an information over load. It didn't know how to process what was going on. The lack of connection began restoring when she doubled over and coughed out a river of blood it felt like. Her mind was going over what she had just done over and over again; she was having trouble believing it; but the pain in her belly was a solid reminder.

Bobby had been all kinds of bravado when he had pushed her towards Jack and set to work on Party Guy. Jack had grabbed her with both arms and pulled her into a tight hug. She had let out a small sob and buried her face against him. The bonds around her wrists were quickly cut, and they began filling with blood and feeling once again. The prickling was uncomfortable, but nothing compared to what she had just been through. She was so relieved to have her brothers there, she could hardly speak.

Jack let go of her, holding her at half an arms length and examined her. She knew what he was seeing, it reflected clearly in his eyes. And she knew how he was reacting to it. She didn't have to see his expression to feel the anger radiating from him. He'd started saying things, but her mind couldn't make cognitive sentences out of them. It was all muted noise in her ears. She simply smiled and leaned back into Jack.

She could feel him let out a deep breath and wrap his arms around her again. What felt like seconds had passed when she felt a deep laugh rumbled through him. She turned to see what had become of Bobby and Party Guy. Bobby was walking towards them, a sinister smirk playing at the courners of his mouth. She had let out a small sigh of relief, until she saw a slight movement.

"Gas tank." Bobby said when he got close to them.

Quinn tried to say something, to warn him, but her voice had chosen now to give out. Shiny. She knew what Party Guy was going for before he even pulled it out. Light from the shed reflected of the onyx metal of the gun. A simple 9mm. she had seen her brothers carry numerous times. She knew how much damage they could, and couldn't, do. And right now, the damage outweighed the 'not damage'.

"Big mistake there," Party guy said, raising the gun.

Quinn's heart leapt into her throat. This was not going to end well.

"Game over."

A shrill scream escaped Quinn's mouth as she threw Jack's hands off and ran to Bobby. No one else was going to get hurt tonight. She was not going to let her brothers die because of her stupidity. She knew a price would have to be paid eventually, and she was not going to let anyone but her pay it. This was her problem, and she was going to take care of it. She had to. She had always been protected by her brothers. Always the one they needed to rescue. Now, she was going to take care of them.

Now, here she was. Doubled over on the ground and mind slowly slipping into a blackness that she was sure she wasn't going to return from. She knew her brothers were around her, yelling and making a commotion; but she couldn't hear any of it. Everything was slowly shutting down, and her eyes were feeling heavy. Bobby's face was in front of hers, his hands on either side of her face. He was saying something to her, but she couldn't understand it. She tried her best to smile, to tell him that she was fine, that she wasn't in pain, but her voice had shut itself off completely.

She raised a hand to Bobby's face, touching his cheek before she lost the ability to move and her hand fell back to the ground where it lay motionless. The last thing she could recall before being pulled into the tantalizing darkness, was Bobby's fear stricken face, and the smell of gas and burning.

* * *

I'm awake. No. I can't be awake. It's all dark. I must be asleep, but how would I know I was asleep? I must be awake. I can hear Bobby. He's…quiet…calm. I _must_ be asleep then. I wonder if I can move. I think I just moved my fingers. There's something in my hand. Should I squeeze it? Things get louder when I do. Those noises…voices…?

"Bobby…?"

* * *

Quinn's eyes fluttered softly and the smallest groan escaped her lips as her head rolled to one side. Her vision was blurry as she tried to focus on the mass of white above her. She continued to roll her head until her vision settled on a grey mass. It was easier to focus on this; it didn't slur together with the rest of the white. She had to blink a few times before what she was looking at came into focus.

"Quinn…!" Bobby breathed, reaching a hand up to her face.

Quinn smiled softly and placed a hand over his, "Hi," she said quietly.

He gave a small laugh that sounded like a hidden sob, "Hi, how you doing? Sleep well?" he rubbed the side of her head.

"Yeah," she replied. She was heavily medicated, and was feeling elevated. "What happened."

Bobby's expression fell a little, "You got shot, baby girl. You stepped in front of the bullet."

"I did, didn't I?" Bobby nodded. "What happened after that?"

An evil glint came into Bobby's eyes, but his expression stayed the same. "We took care of it." Was all he said.

Quinn just nodded, looking around the room. Jack and Angel and Jerry were all standing around her bed. They all bore the same sad, relieved expressions Bobby did. When she took a closer look, all of their eyes were bloodshot. Her heart gave a small leap inside; they were all worried sick over her. She didn't think she ever felt so loved.

"Quinn," Bobby said, bringing her attention back to him. "Don't you ever do that again." He said sternly. "Don't ever step in front of a bullet for any of us like that again."

Quinn slowly raised her hand, cupping Bobby's cheek in her palm. "Oh sweetie, I am always going to be there to take a bullet for you." She smiled softly, her eyes getting heavy.

A sob got caught it Bobby's throat. "Us to, Quinnie Bear. Always."

8


End file.
